Part 22 (1/2)

”No good,” answered the first man; ”but it was a dirty piece of work at best. I would that Sir Percival could have found another way of keeping back his young son. Strange it were to spirit away the lad in that style. He really thought he was showing us the way, not seeing the colors we wore until too late.”

”My Fairy Prince!” gasped Maid Sally, ”my Fairy Prince!”

”Make no more talk,” said the third man, stoutly. ”No harm hath been done, no harm whatever! And well paid are we to be. The lad will simply be detained until too late to join his comrades, a matter of two days or so.”

”I half fear me the sharp wits of the lad will find him a way of escape,” said the first speaker, ”and he is but six hours' ride from Pamunkey turnpike, where the others will ride at noon to-morrow.”

”Aha!” said the third man, ”but Farmer Hinds will watch him well. His reward will sharpen his eyes, no doubt.”

”He would be all right could he but get a horse,” said the first man.

”And no horse will he get within miles of Darius Hinds's old farm place for days to come,” said the second man. ”Plenty of oxen, but never a horse or a mule. But come on! Tired out I am. Our work is done. And no one knoweth aught, except that the pert young plotter Bromfeld was told that, at the last moment, Sir Percival Grandison's upstart warrior had changed his mind and started on a little journey.”

CHAPTER XIX.

ONE NIGHT

Home went Maid Sally, head down, heart full. She knew the whole story.

What should she do? Tell Parson Kendall, and let him fly to the rescue?

Then might the king's men interfere, and great trouble come to the good parson.

Ah! she knew what to do. Find Reginald Bromfeld, and let the gay troop pa.s.s that way on the morrow and release their comrade. That they could easily do, even should it take a little time.

She went home to her supper, and then, saying she would take a walk, started for the Widow Bromfeld's, about a mile away. When near the place she met an old colored uncle, and asked where she might find Master Reginald Bromfeld.

”Nowhar,” answered the old man. ”He done gone with young Mars' Sutcliff, Mars' Byrd, Mars' Spottswood, Mars' Norris, and Mars' Culpeper for Bosting town, an' only de good Lawd know whedder any ob em ebber come walkin' back alibe.”

”When did they go?” panted Sally.

”Two hour ago, missy. For some reason 'bout gettin' guns, dey mus' stop on de way. But dey all gets to de big turnpike to-morr' noon. Den dey cuts fo' Bosting.”

Sally turned back, and, walking briskly, was soon at home and in her room. While it was still early she went to bed.

But sleep was as far from the maiden's eyes as though such a thing had never been known. Her Fairy Prince had been trapped, gently it was true, yet trapped, and led off where he would be watched, and not be able to meet his friends until too late to join in the great battle they felt was near at hand.

”And he is at the farm of Darius Hinds, six hours from Pamunkey turnpike,” she said, as if repeating a well-learned lesson.

When she laid herself down that night, Sally had felt almost sure that there was no help for her poor Prince. The times were dangerous. To tell what she knew might make strife right in their midst. She was afraid for others, but never for herself.

As the clock on the stairs struck eleven, she heaved a great sigh. ”If I could only help him!” she cried, softly, to herself.

”I _will_ help him!” she cried again, ”I will.”

Then she paused in self-surprise.

”What is there inside me,” she asked, ”that leaps up with such strength whenever I say 'I will?' And what makes me say it? Have I strange, hardy blood in my veins making me want to fight? I do want to fight! They tell that boys twelve years of age are shouldering guns and rus.h.i.+ng into battle at Boston. A gun I would shoulder this very night and march forth to fight those redcoats were I a boy. I am but a maid of fourteen years, but something I would gladly do for my country, and, alas! for my Fairy Prince.”

She put her red-gold head down on her arms, which were folded across her knees as she sat up in bed, and for several moments she neither spoke nor stirred.